I have thoroughly enjoyed the 4 previous recordings from Ensemble Arabesques, all of them notable for rare repertoire, superlative playing, and some of the very best recorded sound I’ve ever heard of a chamber ensemble. And this newest release is no different.
I was not familiar with any of this music (or even this composer, for that matter)1, and I decided to listen in the opposite order as presented on the CD – thus starting with the fewest numbers of players (Septet) and increasing as I went, rather than the other way around. (That just seemed to make sense to me.) Curiously, the booklet is unclear as to the actual instrumentation for each piece. In fact, the booklet doesn’t describe the individual pieces at all! – no program notes of any kind, not even composition dates or Opus numbers – merely providing a concise history of the composer. How odd, especially for music which is almost completely unknown and not otherwise available on CD. The personnel for the entire ensemble of 11 players is listed, but no real attempt is made to clarify who plays on what piece. It was easy to determine just by listening that the double bass only appears in the Nonetto, and each subsequent piece reduces the number of players, one at a time, on inner voices (clarinet, bassoon, maybe horn).
But in the end, it doesn’t really matter, for all this music is pleasant and charming, and the minor variations in instrumentation are insignificant (other than the bass in the Nonetto). And as already mentioned, the playing and recorded sound are as good as it gets.
Theodore Gouvy was born in Prussia, but his education took place in Paris. Thus he is considered a “French/German” composer, and has been described as kind of a “French Beethoven”. And I do hear perhaps some of that description in his music (which I will get to in a moment), but it’s rather more “modern” and congenial than Beethoven. All of this music was written later in life, in rather close succession, within a span of about 10 years (1883-1893). The Septet comes squarely in the middle, though it appears last on the CD, and it was with it I began listening. And instantly – I mean from the very first notes of the opening Adagio – I hear the unmistakable, delectable, shimmering blend of Ensemble Arabesques. It is the very essence of lovely, enhanced by the glowing acoustics of the venue (Immanuel church in Wuppertal, north Germany). The sound is instantly recognizable as being this ensemble; it can be no other. And that is quite amazing! I’m instantly drawn into the music, and soon, the Adagio gives way to an Allegro, which is launched with a lively buoyancy somewhat reminiscent of Mendelssohn – brilliantly scored.2 And the recording positively sparkles on top of the inner glow from within.
And if I thought that was charming, the Scherzo is even more so – positively delightful and joyous – again brilliantly scored. This group excels at characterizing the various moods in the music – bubbling with playful effervescence at the beginning, then switching gears notably for the more pesante, somewhat Beethovian, pastorale central section. The Andante features an elegant clarinet solo, while the Finale is a jaunty, marching Allegro in minor key, with an infectious rhythmic tune (often as a duet) over bouncing octaves in the bassoon. Its very tunefulness is even a bit dramatic before eventually turning into the Major mode to end the piece.
And we’re off to a fantastic start.
The middle work on the CD, “Serenade Octet”, actually sounds very similar – so much so, it could almost be a continuation of the same piece. I had trouble identifying it though, as it isn’t listed on Wikipedia (which I had to resort to, since the booklet fails to mention it at all). Searching further, I did find on IMSLP a “Serenade in G Major” (for 8 wind instruments) from 1893, with no Opus number. This is likely what is played here, as I determined it is indeed in the key of G. It is very similar to the Septet in flavor and character (and scoring), though perhaps a touch more Beethovian still. The opening Pastorale is lyrical and tuneful, sunny and smiling, with a charm to it that almost hints at Dvorak (along with Beethoven). The same can be said of the Intermezzo which follows. But the Canzonetta is different, featuring a melancholy oboe in minor key. This section is more serious, yet attractively lyrical, with Beethoven bearing an even stronger influence. The final Rondo is more Dvorakian still, curiously remaining in the minor as it marches along in a kind of call to action, before finally emerging in the Major for a triumphant ending. If this piece is not quite as original as the Septet, it is pleasant enough – just not quite as distinctively memorable.
Finally going back to the beginning of the program for the 1883 Nonetto, we hear nearly the entire group – flute, oboe (just one), pairs of clarinets, horns and bassoons, and, most notably, a double bass. The opening “Introduction and Allegro” is by far the longest movement in any of these works (9-1/2 minutes) and the bass viol is instantly an obvious (and perhaps unwelcome, at least to these ears) addition to the ensemble. As the music progresses, a glorious horn solo emerges, clear as a bell (and gloriously played here), with a touch of Beethovian grandeur. Eventually it leads to the Allegro, which is bustling and vibrant – spirited without being frivolous – and is perhaps the most similar to Beethoven of any music heard on this program. And the double bass is as light-footed as it can possibly be played (mostly pizzicato), but remains a constant presence, adding just a touch of heaviness to the music.3
The Intermezzo Polonaise is a delightful, kind of slow, waltz with hints of Tchaikovsky (his lighter Orchestral Suites, for example). The bass is bowed here, but gracefully so, and it’s actually better integrated. And the flutist switches to piccolo in this section, adding a very welcome sparkle to the music. The Elegie, in striking contrast, is thoughtfully songful, and even more reminiscent of Tchaikovsky. It features oboe and clarinet solos over a rolling, arpeggiated bassoon foundation, punctuated by the ever-present double bass pizzs thumping along underneath. The Finale, then, is sprightly and vivacious, with lots of fast double-tonguing propelling the music – effortlessly articulated by these fine musicians. And the bass seems even less imposing during this nimble little movement. (Perhaps I’m just getting used to its presence at this point.) This is utterly delightful, and one marvels at the expert playing, as they bring to a close a thoroughly enjoyable piece which deserves to be better known. I actually wish they had concluded the program with this – but that’s just me.
Finally, in closing, I must once again mention the recorded sound, which is a crucial element in the overall enjoyment of this release. It is instantly recognizable as the characteristic house sound of FARAO Classics – clear, open and spacious, with the group shimmering, yet perfectly focused, within a lustrous, glowing acoustic. The sheer beauty of sound is a constant pleasure to listen to, and the realism of musicians in the room is stunning – as if the listener has been transported to the hall in which they play. All thoughts of the electronics involved evaporate, as one is thoroughly immersed in the musicmaking. This is how you record musicians in a reverberant acoustic.
I hope the availability issues with this CD get resolved soon. For even if this music isn’t necessarily your cup of tea (though I think almost anyone would enjoy it), you should try to hear this recording from FARAO Classics – if for no other reason than to experience truly wonderful ensemble playing and truly fantastic recorded sound.4 It is the very epitome of a state-of-the-art recording of chamber music. This disc skyrockets to my 2026 “Best of Year” list – and it’s only February!
1 While waiting for a copy of this disc, I obtained the recent CPO box set of Gouvy’s 6 Symphonies and got to know his music a little bit. They are enjoyable and enlightening works, several of which are quite excellent and musically rewarding
2 As near as I can tell: flute, oboe, 2 clarinets, 2 horns and a bassoon.
3 This observation is not a reflection on the playing or the recording; it’s inherent in the scoring itself. And I can’t help but wonder why Gouvy would add a double bass to a small group of winds playing such charming music in the first place. I admit, however, listening to this recording again on another day, I was much less distracted by it.
4 I can’t imagine the download doing it full justice.
.png?w=670&resize=670,446&ssl=1 "Secret rendezvous and Queens in disguise: Pegasus Opera stage Ethel Smyth's Fête galante and Philip Hagemann's The Dark Lady of the Sonnets")
